Dorothy Oakley Rea

Mother and small son walking along a sun-splashed street; Their shadows, hand in hand, dance swiftly at their feet. Her shadow straight and tall; his shadow small and round; They laugh at their likenesses traced there upon the ground. The summer suns pass quickly. They walk another day. Now, shadows move sedately down the familiar way. His shadow now the tall one, her shadow slight and bent, And as she walks she wonders where his little shadow went.